The Spoils of War
by XxTwistedThornxX
Summary: The Doctor was a paradox beneath her palms, so hard and soft at the same time, scalding skin that scorched and soothed with each caress. He was the eighth wonder of the world, terrible and beautiful, protecting her and breaking her with each moment they shared together. He had killed a part of her with each new adventure and yet taught her just how "fantastic" it was to be alive.


**Well…waking up passed midnight after attempting to sleep on a stormy night, I find myself without the ability. I hate being a light sleeper…So I asked myself, "Self! What should we do for the next six hours while we wait for the sun to rise?" to which I replied, "Why, we write fanfiction!"**

It wasn't the worst vacation she had ever been on, Rose thought idly as she watched rain belt against the over-large window of the hotel room. It washed over the glass like a waterfall, allowing only a distorted view of the dreary planet outside.

Vesperia was a tropical paradise, the Doctor had told her, with oceans the color of lilacs and sand as soft as flour. He had excitedly urged her to be the first to step outside the TARDIS and watched her reaction with eager eyes when she pulled the door open.

It _had _been beautiful. The warm sun had kissed her cheeks and shimmered gold in her hair. The sky was perpetually the deep orange, pink, and purple colors of sunset, and she could smell the ocean on the air. It took her breath away and the Doctor had puffed up his chest proudly as he slipped his hand in hers.

It all started off wonderfully, to the Doctor's credit. The capital city where they'd landed, Asiph, was a jewel in itself. Crystalline buildings that shimmered like a mirage dotted the skyline, trader kiosks selling souvenirs of all types (including a shrunken head that still _talked_ to anyone that would listen—Rose couldn't contain her amusement as the Doctor began to argue with it) lined the shore. There was even an amusement park stretched out into the middle of the ocean on a large pier.

But like many tropical areas, the warm sunshine gave way to dark clouds and rain in a heartbeat. The Doctor and Rose had been rushed inside a hotel by locals, along with a mass of other tourists. The doors behind them had been closed and sealed while they were ushered to the reception desk. The duo watched as the water began to rise outside with disappointment.

The Doctor defended that he was sure he landed the TARDIS before rainy season was supposed to begin and a hotel employee (a male with orange skin and pitch black eyes, his nametag read "Jimmy," but somehow Rose doubted the validity of it) explained that storms like this _were _uncommon during this season but not unheard of and the flooding it brought would be fatal to anyone that tried to brave the weather.

The tourists were offered discounted rooms as compensation, as the staff was unsure of when the storm would pass and the streets were already flooded far beyond traveling ability. The Doctor and Rose reluctantly took their room key and retired for the day.

Now, they sat on the plush couch in the center of the room. Rose lay down with her head dipping off the edge and her legs stretched across the Doctor's lap and they listened to the rain with small frowns on their faces.

"Well," Rose sighed, breaking the companionable silence, "this is…"

"Domestic," The Doctor grumbled, his fingers dancing anxiously over the smooth skin of Rose's calves.

"I was going to say 'ridiculous.'"

"Same thing. Time Lords don't get 'rained in'."

"I know one that does," Rose smirked. The Doctor rolled his eyes and pinched her leg lightly, earning a soft squeak in protest. Silence fell between them again, leaving nothing but the sound of rain and wind billowing outside. Rose slipped her legs off of the Doctor and sat up straight when the blood rushed to her head, pulling her arms above her in a stretch. "Is the TARDIS ok, do you think?"

"A little rain never hurt anyone," the Doctor shrugged. "Though, doesn't mean she likes it. Probably should have parked her in a garage, I'm sure I'll get a reaming when we get back."

Rose smiled and shook her head lightly. The Doctor rested his arm along the back of the couch and Rose took the opportunity to nestle herself against him. She propped her feet up on the coffee table and let her eyes flutter shut at the alien's warmth.

"When I was a kid, mum and I used to play games to pass rainy days."

"Oh yeah, let's make this even worse, shall we?" The Doctor gave a derisive snort. Rose frowned and flickered her hazel eyes to meet the Doctor's steely blue.

"What? It's better than just sitting here!" She stood and the Doctor grimaced at the sudden chill in his side. She wandered behind the couch to their bed and began rifling through the bedside drawers.

"What are you doing?" The Doctor called over his shoulder.

"Looking for something to do," she said stubbornly. The Doctor glanced up at the ceiling in exasperation; asking whichever divine entity that watched over Vesperia to please, _please _make it stop before he went mad. A triumphant "ah-ha!" sounded behind him and Rose hopped over the back of the couch with a small, rectangular box in her hand. Her tongue peeked out behind her teeth as she grinned proudly and presented him with the cardboard like it were an award.

"Playing cards?"

She nodded and put some game-space between them on the cushion.

"You _do _know how to play, don't you?"

"Of course I know how to play," he muttered, reluctantly taking the deck from the box and shuffling.

"Just wondering if it's been a while, old man."

"Oi!"

Rose's grin proved that she was just trying to rile him and the Doctor shook his head and schooled his smirk into a straight face.

"Don't be so surprised when I wipe the floor with you," He warned. "Name your game."

Rose was thoughtful for a moment.

"War?"

"Are you serious?" The Doctor asked, arching an eyebrow. "We could be here all day!"

Rose motioned to the window behind her pointedly and the Doctor sighed, relenting.

"Besides," Rose grinned. "If it were any other game, you'd cheat."

"I would never!"

"War is totally random, so no using your Time-Lord-Jedi- mind-tricks to beat me."

The Doctor split the deck, deciding not to grace that with a response.

"If that rain stops before the game is finished, we're leaving."

"Obviously."

The Doctor nodded once. He and Rose flipped their first cards over. Queens, the both of them. They laid out three more cards and flipped. Rose squealed in delight at the Doctor's 3 and her King and gathered the cards. The Doctor sighed and leaned back against the armrest, moving to flip his next card. Rose held a finger up, stopping him.

"One leather jacket," She demanded.

"What?"

"You heard me," her lips stretched into a Cheshire cat grin and she leaned closer. "One. Leather. Jacket."

When the Doctor looked even more confused, Rose couldn't contain a small laugh.

"The spoils of war," she explained. "I beat you, so give me your jacket."

The Doctor was stunned for a moment, as though questioning if he'd heard her right. When Rose held her hand out expectantly, his eyes darkened and the corner of his mouth lifted in a lopsided smirk. He slipped the jacket off his shoulders, down his arms, and placed it in her waiting hand.

This would be interesting.

"Thank you!" She chirped merrily, pulling the much-to-large garment around her shoulders. The Doctor felt warmth spread through his chest.

Rose looked absolutely pathetic, her small form practically drowned in the leather and the sleeves dangled off the couch, so even if she did wear it properly it was at least a few sizes too large. Her smile was perfectly content, though, and the Doctor caught her dipping her nose to sniff the collar as she maneuvered her stack of cards to sit more comfortably in her palm.

"Ready?" She asked cheekily.

"Always."

They turned their cards. A 7 beat his 5, and the Doctor's fingers twitched in anticipation. The grin was back and Rose gave him a once over.

"Shoes," she commanded. The Doctor felt a small wave of disappointment, but obediently kicked his boots under the coffee table. Rose pulled his jacket more comfortably over her and smiled, her fingers resting on the top of her cards.

Another flip and another tie. Deuces rested in the space between them and they drew the next three cards. When they picked their cards, the Doctor's face split into a grin. 9 to 3. He collected the pile and his eyes trailed along her body languidly, determining what the best reward would be. She honestly didn't give him much to choose from, having come to the planet in cut-off jean shorts and a t-shirt. Her sandals had already been abandoned by the door.

It was her little game, he decided with a smirk. It was common sense not to gamble with anything you were prepared to lose.

"Off with it," he grinned, motioning to the t-shirt.

Rose's eyes danced with mischief, sliding his jacket off to crumple behind her and crisscrossing her arms over her front to grab the hem of her shirt. She slid it over her head tantalizingly slow, revealing inch by delicious inch of her pink, human skin to the Doctor's gaze. She pulled the fabric over her chest, hooking her fingers briefly in her pink, lace-trimmed bra before pulling the cotton shirt completely off her head.

She shook her hair out and dropped the shirt to the floor. She shivered as the Doctor's eyes left burning trails along her exposed abdomen. His stare was dark and hungry, his fingers twitched with the desire to look _and_ touch and he entertained the idea of leaping across the small space dividing them.

Rose scooted a little closer, closing the gap only slightly, and she fingered the top card on her deck.

"I won't go easy on you anymore," She warned playfully.

"I'm shaking in my boots."

"No, you're not. I got those off you," Rose replied smartly. The Doctor chuckled and they flipped their next cards. Rose's eyes snapped to his and she smiled, poking her tongue between her teeth.

"The jumper."

The Doctor had no illusions about himself. He knew he wasn't a real sight to see. But the way Rose's eyes greedily followed the hem of his jumper, taking in the lean, rippling muscles of his abdomen, the way she sucked her lower lip between her teeth as she appraised his toned chest and broad shoulders…

Whenever she was with him, the Doctor allowed himself to believe he was _desired_.

He closed the distance between them, only by a fraction—just as she had. But it was close enough to hear her breath hitch. He watched her continue to admire him and he didn't stop himself from admiring her as well. The Doctor could feel the heat radiating off of her skin and knew that—no matter the outcome—the next round would be his undoing.

Their eyes met, eager and starving, as they each turned over their cards. The Doctor growled in frustration as the twins stared up at him mockingly. They pulled three cards, and then three more. His hands were shaking, begging to win the next draw. Or lose. He couldn't take another tie.

9 to 8. He'd lost.

Rose didn't move to collect the pile. Her eyes remained focused on his and her lips parted to release a breathy whisper that he almost missed.

"_Kiss me_."

The Doctor was on her in an instant, his hands cupping her face as his mouth molded against hers. Rose wrapped her arms around his neck, brushing her fingers against his close-cut hair. Soft, velveteen lips moved against her, claiming and worshipping all at once with his desperate pace. His hands slid from her face to her shoulders, along her biceps and down her sides, until they came to rest at her hips.

It was far different than anything he could have imagined, but in the best possible way. For all his genius, the Doctor just couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that it was _him_ she was with. Not that idiot Mickey, not Adam the boy-genius, and not some other random pretty boy she decided to pick up on the planet. It was him, the vagabond Time Lord with the daft, old face, and the over-large ears. The same madman that waved a bomb in her face and cheerfully suggested that she "run for her life".

He silently prayed to anyone or anything that would listen that she not come to her senses. Not now. Not when her lips were so deliciously pliable against his.

He nibbled her bottom lip and the tip of his tongue ran along the seam of her mouth, begging for her to open up to him. She allowed him in with a sigh, meeting his tongue with her own. Electricity shot through them, each slide of the pink muscles sparked an even deeper desire. The Doctor cornered Rose against the armrest, pulling her hips to meet the hardening tent in his jeans. She hummed, wrapping a leg around his waist and holding him close.

Rose pulled away and gasped for breath, arching her back when the Doctor's mouth moved to her neck and his hands snaked around to tug desperately at her bra. Her nails dug into his flesh as he nibbled and suckled on the sensitive skin.

He cursed under his breath, gave her a sharper nip and tugged more forcefully on the offensive undergarment. Rose gasped and laughed softly, but the Doctor's searing gaze was not amused.

"_Off_," He demanded. He allowed Rose to push him up and reach behind her, his hands busied themselves by tracing her ribs and his lips sucked on her collarbone.

"Is the technology of the human bra too advanced for the Time Lords?" Rose teased, deftly unclasping the hooks with a flick of her fingers. The Doctor immediately tugged the straps from her arms and flung the accursed thing across the room.

"I could've ripped it," he threatened, pressing a quick kiss to her lips again, "I still might."

His hand went to her breast, the other wrapping around her waist to pull her onto his lap. Rose mewled at his touch, arching her back to press herself firmly into his palm. His thumb ran across the dusty peak, coaxing it to attention as his mouth ravished the hollow of her throat.

Rose braced her hands on the Doctor's shoulders, rolling her hips against the aching hardness in his jeans. He loosed a shuddering breath against her skin, dipping his lips to take the hardened nub into his mouth as one hand gave the same treatment to her other breast. The other dropped from her hips and his fingers teased the waistline of her shorts, dipping in past her knickers to rub against the slickness there.

"Doctor," Rose gasped and her hips reflexively pulled away from his touch. The Doctor stiffened, rejection slamming into him like a truck. His hands immediately dropped from her body to clutch at the cushions beneath him.

All good things, and all that jazz, he supposed.

Rose frowned, confusion and hurt flashed in her eyes as she studied him. Why had he stopped? She had lain out such a brazen invitation for him in her little card game, hoping beyond hope that it would be the push he needed in order to see just how much she wanted him. It seemed to have been going along swimmingly, so what had she done to put him off?

He didn't meet her stare, as though he were ashamed of himself, and Rose felt a sudden rush of clarity looking at his slumped shoulders and dejected expression.

"Doctor," Rose's voice was soft, her fingers on his jaw and her kiss on his lips even softer. She took his hand and rested it on the button of her shorts, leading his fingers to slip the fasten open.

The Doctor raised his eyes in question and Rose smiled.

"Just shocked me is all," she assured him. "Don't you dare stop now."

Relief spread through his features and the Doctor grinned. He braced both his hands under her bum and stood. Rose shrieked and wrapped her arms around his shoulders for support, grinning.

"Wouldn't dream of it," He growled confidently. He walked them around the couch, to the queen-sized bed and plopped Rose down. She bounced on the soft mattress and laughed—a beautiful sound that made the Doctor's hearts skip their respective beats. She lifted her hips as the Doctor unzipped the fly of her shorts and slowly slid the denim down her shapely legs.

He took his time looking over her almost bare body. The only thing protecting her from his ravishing was her pink-laced knickers, and the Doctor was intent on getting those out of the way. Her shorts were already forgotten somewhere on the floor.

The Doctor knelt on the bed and ran his fingers along the silky-smooth skin of Rose's leg, coaxing it to rest on his shoulder. He pressed a kiss against her ankle, her calve, the back of her knee, slowly working his way up the limb.

"Rose," He sighed against the junction of her thigh, his hot breath earning a shudder from her. His fingers fluttered along her thighs and hips, slipping into the sides of her knickers. He tugged them free and led them on the same, slow descent as her jeans had traveled.

Rose pulled one leg free and kicked the underwear away with the other. Her skin was flushed pink under the Doctor's predatory stare and she was suddenly attacked by a wave of modesty. She crossed her arms over her breasts and pulled her knees tightly together, feeling suddenly very vulnerable being uncovered before him when she laid eyes on the very prominent bump in the front of his jeans.

The Doctor shook his head and stretched himself over her, kissing her possessively. His hands moved to her arms, carefully extricating them to her sides. His lips moved to her ear, nipping gently on the shell and murmuring into her hair.

"Let me see you, _all of you_." It was a demand and a plea.

Rose coaxed his lips back to cover hers, entwining their tongues as her hands ran down the Doctor's hard chest and stomach until they reached the line of his jeans.

"You first."

The Doctor grinned against her lips and pulled back. He undid his fly and pulled his jeans to his knees, kicking them and his boxers off the bed to rest with the rest of their forgotten clothing. The smile never faded.

It was something people took for granted, a smile, but every time the Doctor spared one—no matter how slight—just for her, it was the greatest gift she could ever receive.

But at the moment, even this rare gem went looked over in favor of a more _pressing_ matter. His manhood strained proudly against his belly, swollen and angry and eager. Rose licked her dry lips and pulled the Doctor down to attack his mouth with fervor.

The Doctor matched her passion, overpowered it with his own. Both of their hands explored each other restlessly as their tongues plundered each other's mouths. No amount of skin was enough to satiate their hunger.

Rose was a marvel, soft and warm and welcoming, but strong and unbendable, unbreakable. Her single heart thundered in her chest and the Doctor let a hand rest there just to admire how powerfully it thudded against him. That small, human organ was large enough for every creature in the universe, but today it was reserved for him and him alone.

The Doctor himself was a paradox beneath her palms, so hard and soft at the same time, scalding skin that scorched and soothed with each caress. He was the eighth wonder of the world, terrible and beautiful, protecting her and breaking her with each moment they shared together. He had killed a part of her with each new adventure and yet taught her just how "fantastic" it was to be alive.

Rose's fingers found his manhood and circled around its girth. Pride swelled in her chest at the primal groan that wretched itself from his throat. The Doctor rested his forehead against hers as she began to stroke along his length. His hips rocked gently into her ministrations.

His own hand delved between her legs, gathering her moisture on the tip of his middle finger. Rose sighed, feeling his dexterous appendages brush against her lips and core. Her own cry startled her when he pressed one of his moistened fingers against the bundle of nerves above her opening, and she squeezed his member gently.

"_Rose_," the Doctor warned. Sweat beaded at his brow and his teeth were clenched. Rose's eyes fluttered open, gazing into light blue orbs that were almost completely eclipsed by his dilated pupils. She stroked him softer, keeping time with his teasing massages against her sensitive nub. Their breaths mingled together, hot and desperate, longing to breathe each other in until there was no differentiation between Rose and her Doctor.

Their lips found each other again, the kiss chaotic as they bordered on pleasure neither of them were willing to reach yet. They murmured into each other's mouths.

"Rose, enough…"

"Doctor, I can't…"

The Doctor urged Rose's hand away from him, only making a small noise of discomfort. He wrapped both her arms around his neck, his other hand never straying from its mission between her legs. Rose held onto him tightly, finally having a moan dragged out of her as his finger slipped inside her molten core. His thumb continued to pleasure her outside while his finger, and then another, thrust inside. He set an excruciating pace, leaving Rose a quivering mess beneath him. Her vocabulary was reduced to his name and "please," her hips gyrated in a vain attempt to bring him up to her speed.

She whined and whimpered and begged, tears prickling the corner of her eyes from the building pressure that never broke. When the Doctor curled his fingers, she saw stars and shouted for the entire planet to hear. The Doctor repeated the action, then again, harder. He followed Rose's jumbled encouragements until she arched flush against him and shrieked, her muscles clamped down on his fingers and a flood of arousal washed over his hand.

Rose was a breathless heap. Her hands stroked his face fondly, his brow, his cheeks, his lips, his ears. She shivered as a final tremor shook through her and smiled at him lazily. The Doctor kissed her once as she descended from her high and fisted his length, positioning it in front of her glistening sex.

He looked to her for approval and the emotion shining in her eyes was all he needed. He slowly sheathed himself, sharing her loud, drawn-out moan at the feeling of finally being inside. He gave her time to adjust, closing his eyes and reveling in her wet heat.

Velvet and warmth, comforting like a mother's embrace. It was the perfect place to run and hide when all the monsters of the world were hunting you. He wished he could remain like this until the end of time itself.

Rose pressed her lips to his as a go-ahead and the Doctor pulled himself out to the tip then slid back home. Each plunge completed him in a new way, healed some long-inflicted scar that he was sure he'd never feel smoothed.

He grew more fervent, longing to feel her everywhere at once. His hands roamed, memorizing her skin and burying themselves in her golden hair. Rose's touch electrified him everywhere it explored, her nails bit into his back and her legs tightened around his waist as her hips met him thrust for intense thrust.

Prayers of thanks tumbled from his lips. Thanks for whatever god had decided to smile on him. Thanks for the freak storm that trapped them on this planet. Thanks to Rose, for just being Rose.

Rose screamed once more, her walls clenching around him as he continued to move, pulling an appreciative moan from his own lips. He picked up the pace, riding her pleasure for all he was worth, dragging it out so she gasped and mewled underneath him. But the coil in his belly had long since been winding, it wasn't long after her free-fall into ecstasy that the Doctor followed, snapping his hips flush against her one last time before spilling himself deep inside her.

Wave after wave of pleasure washed over him before finally allowing him to collapse. He caught himself on his forearms, so as not to crush the amazing woman smiling so endearingly at him. They kissed, this time a fatigued brushing of lips, and the Doctor ran his fingers through Rose's soft tresses.

"Rose Tyler," he sighed and rested his forehead against hers. "You are fantastic."

Rose leaned into his touch and pressed a kiss to his nose.

"Yeah, and you know what?" She asked with a soft giggle, earning a soft hum in response. "So are you."

The Doctor grinned and rolled to the side, pulling her into a tight embrace.

Outside, the storm raged on.


End file.
